


Luke Castellan and The Vessel of Kronos

by Amoux



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amoux/pseuds/Amoux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've already seen the story through the eyes of Percy Jackson.  But what of Luke Castellan.  The long scar that marred his face, the whispered love between he and Thalia Grace, the thing that pushed him over the edge and into the claws of Kronos.  Follow Luke through the years of his cursed life as a half-blood, traitor and hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eyes of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Age: Five Years Old

_You know, when I learned what I am, what I could accomplish, I never thought I would end up being the villain.  Growing up, knowing who my father was, I thought I was a hero.  I wanted to be a hero, more than anything else in the world.  I wanted people to appreciate me, to think of me as their savior, to protect and guard my friends with my life._

_But things didn’t work out like that.  When you’re a demigod, things don’t normally go according to plan.  It’s my fault, I know.  I made amends for it in the end, of course, but what I did was wrong.  But you don’t understand.  You saw my story through the tale of another.  Through Percy.  You never saw it through my eyes._

_And now you can.  We’ll start at the beginning, and you’ll see what I’ve been through, what drove me to doing the awful things I’ve done.  And maybe then you can forgive me for what I’ve done._

 

I was always a good kid.  A lot of demigods will tell you how much of a troublemaker they were, stealing, running into monsters all the time, getting things blown up.  I was normally pretty well behaved.  As a child, I obviously had my moments.  Sometimes I would get angry at my mom and throw a fit, sometimes I would run away and hide in my treehouse saying that I was never going to come back down.  But I always stopped my fit and climbed down into her arms with one smile from her, or a whiff of her freshly made chocolate chip cookies.  My mother always knew how to set me on track.  Until she went nuts, of course.

It wasn’t like that when I was growing up at first.  We were normal in the beginning.  Being a son of Hermes, I never attracted a lot of attention from the monsters.  They would ignore me and go after the more powerful children of the Gods, children of Ares or Athena.  The Hermes kids were typically pretty safe out in the mortal world.  So I could live my life normally with my mother, going to school, getting my good grades, coming home to her.  But one day, that all changed.

It started well enough.  I’d always had such interesting dreams, dreams of eagles swirling over a kingdom in the skies, the waves rolling over a city underwater and red lightning flashing in a world of darkness and death.  But they were never scared.  When I was that young, I didn’t really know what fear was, until the dream I had that day.  

I was standing in a field of black wheat, their dark stalks twisting while being wrenched around by the harsh wind that kept smacking my hair against my face.  I lifted a hand to brush it away from my eyes as I squinted into the darkness.  It was nighttime, and the shadows cast by the moonlight against clouds made blotches of blackness in the wheat field, creating pools of darkness.  And against the eerie silence, I could hear a voice in my ear, whispering to me, beckoning.  

“Hello?” I asked, stepping into the darkness, looking around and trying to find the source of the voice.  I couldn't pinpoint it, the disembodied voice echoed across the field like I was in a chasm, reverberating in my ears and I sunk down low, shielding myself from it within the black field.   I couldn’t understand what he was saying, he was speaking in a tongue so old, so ancient, I knew that no living being would be able to understand.  But there was meaning to his words.  He was a harmful being, and he scared me.  

_“Do not be afraid, child.”_

That I understood.  I stiffened, slowly rising and looked around feverishly.  “Where are you?” I called out, taking a step forward.  I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him.  A coolness up against my skin and sliding up my spine, making me shiver.  

_“I am within, child.  You are perfect.”_

“Perfect?” I was pretty sure that was a good thing.  Within?  Was he inside me?  That sort of freaked me out and I began to back away, trying to find a way I could get out of the field.  This place was evil.  This being was evil.  “Go away!” I ordered, turning around to leave.

A presence blocked my path.  A golden light that shimmered and writhed, so bright and hot that it burned my skin and I shouted, lurching back.  I could see my fingers burning gold, spreading up into my body and it burned like fire.   _“Such a strong soul,”_ mused the voice as I screamed, falling down.   _“Yes.  You will be the perfect vessel for my purpose.  We will meet again, Luke Castellan.”_

The fire consumed my body, and everything went black.

I woke up in a cold sweat, lurching up in my bed with slight trembles.  There was wetness on my cheek, and I lifted up a stubby hand to wipe away the tears as I bit on my lower lip.  That was scary.

As any normal five year would, the first thing I did was go to seek out the comfort of my mother.  I slipped off my bed, swinging my legs off the end and planted my feet into my dinosaur slippers, pulling on my Land Before Time robe.  I had a thing for dinosaurs back then, everything I did had to do with it.  I was obsessed, it was actually rather unhealthy.

The floorboards creaked under my soft footfalls as I crept through the house.  I knew she was like a log while she slept, I could break a window and she wouldn’t wake up, but I felt this natural instinct to always be light on my feet, always be stealthy and silent.  

I came to her door and I slowly opened it, standing on my tip toes.  “Mom...?” I whispered hoarsely.  She had just quit a job where she worked night shifts, so she was used to sleeping with a pillow covering her face to shield herself from the sunlight.  That habit must not have faded yet, because her snores were muffled through the pillow that rested on her face and I crept into her bed, sitting on the edge and I leaned forward, shaking her arm.  “Mom,” I tried again.  

She didn’t move, she slept like the dead and I frowned, giving her a rough shake.  “Mom!”

She jerked awake, lifting up her pillow to gaze at me with her light blue eyes and she breathed, placing it to the side.  “Luke,” she muttered, sitting up and leaned over, pulling on a chain that lit up a lamp.  “What’s wrong?”

“Bad dream.”

She pursed her lips.  She always got nervous whenever I mentioned that I had a dream, asking me what it was about, if I saw anything scary.  “A nightmare?”

I nodded.

Her eyes grew soft.  “Do you want to sleep with mommy?”

I was already nodding and nestling myself under the covers and she smiled, bringing me in closer to her.  The magic of a mother, as soon as I rested by her all of the worry and fear seemed to drift away and the memory of the nightmare was already fading as I closed my eyes, snuggling into her side and closed my eyes.  The rest of my sleep was dreamless.

 

When I woke up in the morning, I was a bit panicked.  I couldn’t find my mom and that morning drowsiness was making me afraid without her.  But when I smelled the pancakes sifting into the room, it calmed my nerves and I smiled, sinking back into my slippers as I walked out of her room and into the kitchen.

Sunshine was shining through our flower patterned curtains and onto the tile floor, lighting up in a golden glow that reminded me frighteningly of the glow in my dream.  I decided to play Lava, placing the couch cushions on the tile floor that led a path to the table and hopped from one to the other.  My mother looked over at me with a raised brow, but she smiled and turned back to her pancakes.  “You’ll be putting those away,” she told me with a laugh as she brought me my food as I sat down.

“But they’re heavy!”

“Not heavy enough for you to take out.”

She placed my pancakes in front of me and I gave a laugh.  My mother had obviously tried to make a pancake in the shape of a brachiosaurus, but the neck had been split in half she was trying to flip them.  “It’s a longneck!” I said with a smile and she planted a kiss on my cheek.

“You don’t mind eating Littlefoot, do you?”

“No way.”  I devoured that little dinosaur, chomping away happily as I watched my mom move about the kitchen, humming to herself as she tidied up the mess she made while cooking.  Normally I would have leaped up to help her, I swear to you, but I felt very lazy and I just swung my legs that couldn’t quite reach the ground and watched.  

She looked over at me and smiled, gesturing to my lip and I immediately wiped it, knowing I probably had something on my face.  Syrup.  I frowned and tried to wipe it on my shirt and my mother gave an exasperated sigh, walking over with a damp paper towel and brushed it against my lip.

“Luke, you are the messiest boy in the world, you know that?”

I gave her a toothy smile.  I had lost a count of two this past summer.  It was an accident, of course.  The truck I ran into while sledding wasn’t very merciful with my face, landing me a bruised cheek and two broken teeth that had to be removed.  I got one hell of a gift from the tooth-fairy, though.  

I dug into my pancakes, careful to avoid the dangerous globs of sticky syrup but to no avail, by the time I finished my face was covered in the mess and I licked my lips, looking over at my mom.  

“Mom?”

She was standing straight, looking out the window and gripping the countertop so tightly that her knuckles were white, a slight tremble to her shoulders.  I slid off the chair and walked over to her hesitantly.  She looked like she was in pain or something.  “Mom...?” I tugged at her shirt.

She spun around and grabbed my shoulders so hard that it hurt.  I gasped.  Her eyes were flickering blue and green as she gripped my arms, pinning them to my sides.  “Mom!”  I shouted, trying to squirm away.  I was terrified.  

When she spoke, it didn’t sound like my mother.  It sounded like a hundred different voices speaking at once.   _“The child with eyes of gold will hold the Titan of old,”_ she rasped, gasping for breath as she spoke.  I tried to jerk away and her fingers clutched even tighter to my arms.  I could feel her fingernails break through my skin and I cried out in pain.   _“Under the spell he will awaken the one who fell.  The dark lord will bind he who holds his mind.  And the Hero of Olympus will give a breath of the final promise in death.”_ My mother released me then, giving a gasp as she lurched backwards, hitting the cabinet hard and sank down to the ground, her entire body trembling as she leaned her head against the cupboard panting.

I couldn’t move.  I could barely breathe.  I could feel warm blood dripping down my arms from where her nails had dug into my skin.  It hurt, everything hurt.  But nothing hurt more than the fact that she hurt me.

I turned tail and ran away from my mother.  I could hear her calling out for me as I pounded up the stairs, and when I heard her coming after me asking what was wrong, I ran even harder.  I ran into my room, slamming the door behind me with a sob as I lowered myself down to the ground, locking the door.

“Luke!”  My mother knocked on the door.  “Luke, sweetie, what’s wrong?  Are you all right?”

I didn’t answer.  I cried and leaned my head against the door and when she knocked again, I felt her hands on my arms in my mind and I whimpered, backing away so that my spine touched my bed.  She finally gave up, telling me to come out so that we could talk and I heard her footsteps fading away.  

I didn’t understand why.  I didn’t know what was going on, or why she was acting that way.  All I knew was that my mom had gone bat-crap crazy.  And I was afraid.  


	2. Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Age: Five Years Old

After that event, things between my mother and I became very tedious.  She could tell that there was something wrong, and she would try to nudge it out of me but honesty, I was too scared to talk to her.  She would pull me aside, give me a sucker and try to get me to tell her what was going on and I would just stay quiet, not meeting her eyes until she gave up and pulled away, telling me that she loved me and that she would do anything she could to help me.

I wished I could believe her.  It only took that one time for me to lose my trust for my mother.  Eventually I had to start talking to her, I couldn’t live with someone and be absolutely silent but our conversations were brief.  I can’t even tell you how many times she had taken me to the movies or to the ice cream shop to try and elicit some kind of laugh or smile from me.  And it wasn’t easy, I can tell you that.  Every time I looked at her my heart ached, I only wanted to feel safe around her again.  I wanted my mommy again, to protect me from my nightmares and my fears.  Instead, she just added more stress, more fear.  It was an unending nightmare suddenly. 

One day when I woke up, I rolled over and stared at the picture on my nightstand.  We had gone to Hollywood, and I was up on my mother’s shoulders while a random stranger took a picture of us.  I licked the space where my tooth had been and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.  Everything had changed.

“Luke!”  My mother called.  I instantly cringed, squirming under my Land Before Time blanket a bit.  “Luke, come down here, someone wants to see you!”

I frowned, sitting up.  Someone was over?  It might have been my friends from school, Allie and Kyle kept on saying they would get their moms to drive over at some point.  So I wriggled out of my blankets and started down into the kitchen, moving tentatively and quietly as I came closer to my mother.

I peeked around the corner and into the living room.  My mother sat on the couch, her feet propped up on the table and a man stood by the door, his hands behind his back.  He had pale blonde hair and light blue eyes and a kind smile was touching his lips.  I knew who he was the moment I saw him.  I had seen him once before, about a year ago and a huge smile split my face in two.

“Daddy!”  I raced towards him and he grinned, catching me as I leaped up to him and we twirled from my momentum a bit before he slowly lowered me down, patting my head.

“Luke,” he cooed, bringing the hand down to my shoulder.  “I’ve missed you.”  He looked up at my mom and smiled.  “And May,” he stood up and as soon as they got close I averted my eyes, gagging.  I didn’t need to see them making out in front of me.  When they were finished, my mom turned to me, her eyes sad, but hopeful.

“Honey, your daddy is going to take you out today.”

“Why?”

“To talk to you.”

That was kinda weird.  Even as a kid, I knew something was off and I was hesitant, but I let my dad open the door and usher me out.  My mom always had an obsession with Greek Mythology, and she constantly got me these little plushies of monsters and creatures from the myths.  I was always more of a dinosaur guy and honestly, they always freaked me out for some reason so I told her to keep them.  After a while she had collected a number of them and had lined the cement walkway that lead up to my house.  And every time I walked down to the street, I always had a feeling those lifeless marble eyes were watching me.  

I saw my dad was ahead and I sped up, wondering if he’d let me take his hand or not.  “Where are we going?” I asked with a smile.  I was bursting with excitement.  I’d been waiting for an opportunity to spend with my dad and now I had one. 

“We’re just going to walk around,” he said, giving me a warm look as he knelt down, pulling something out of his pocket.  “Here.  This is for you.”

I frowned, taking the thing from him.  It was small, and wrapped up in a bronze packaging and I opened it quickly, never a neat present opener and shreds of bronze paper soon littered the sidewalk as we walked.  When I tossed away the last piece, I held a golden coin between my two fingers.  “What is it?” I ventured, lifting it up so that I could watch the sun reflecting off its surface.

“A way to talk to me, if you ever need to,” My father promised.  We didn’t say anything for a while.  My neighborhood is a peaceful one, the perfect place to live in so many people’s minds.  With quaint, decent sized houses lining a nice little road, with gardens and willow trees and enough space between the homes for comfort and convenience.  It was the safest place I had ever known, until that one night my mother went nuts.

I got excited as my father began to lead me over towards the playground that rested in the middle of my neighborhood.  I could already hear the sounds of children laughing and playing and we stepped over the wooden trimming that kept the mulch in place, slowly sitting down.  Being the ADHD ridden boy that I am, I desperately wanted to jump up and play with the other children but I kept myself contained, knowing that my father wanted to talk about something.  Well, he should have hurried.  I was practically jittering with anticipation and excitement.  

“Luke,” My father said softly.  “Has your mother ever spoken of me?”

I shook my head.  My father was always a touchy subject with my mother.  All she would tell me was that he was the kindest man she had ever known, and that he loved me more than anything in the world.  It was something I wanted to believe desperately.  

“All right,” he hesitated.  “How to explain this to a child...I won’t be able to speak with you again for quite some time.”

I frowned.  He wasn’t coming back “Why not?”

“Circumstance.”  My father rubbed his face, looking up at the sky.  Big, puffy clouds were floating overhead against a massive blue sky.  He was quiet for a moment.  “You know those stuffies your mother keeps?” he asks, looking down at me.  “Of the monsters?”

“Yeah!”

“They’re real.”

My eyes widened. A look of horror must have washed over my face because he groaned and scratched at his jaw.  “I keep forgetting how young you are...probably not the best way to start this conversation.  Ah...I’m a very important man.  I’m a God.”

I cocked my head.  “Jesus?”

My father chuckled.  “No.  A God, I control something in the world.  My father, Zeus, controls the sky and lightning.”

“Storms?”

“Yes.  My sister, Aphrodite, she controls love and beauty.  My uncle, Poseidon, controls water.”  

“And what are your powers?”

“I’m Hermes.  So I am the God of Messages and Travel.  I can teleport, I can speak any language...I have lots of powers.  And so do you.”

My heart jumped.  I smiled and leaned forward.  “I have powers?  Can I shoot fire?”

“That’s more Hephaestus’ realm of power, and thankfully, none of his children hold that ability.”

“Can I breathe underwater?”

“That’s Poseidon.”

“Can I-” I was cut off as Hermes put a hand on my knee.  ‘

“You can do anything you want to do,” Hermes promised.  “You will learn your powers in time, I promise you, Luke.”  His eyes darkened for a moment and he squeezed my knee.  “Luke, I need you to promise me something.”

I could tell something was wrong.  I could see it in his eyes.  I nodded to show I was listening, even leaning forward and when he brought his hand up to my cheek, I knew something was  _ really  _ wrong.  “Creating you was the worst mistake I could have ever made,” my father said.  My heart split in two.  “Your life will be filled with pain, with anger, with sorrow.  And I’m sorry.  Just promise me you will never lose sight of what’s important.  Promise me that no matter what, you will do what is right, and not give into your anger.”

I nodded furiously.  I didn’t know what he meant, I didn’t know anything, all I knew was that I wanted to do anything to please him.  But it didn’t seem to work, my dad still looked sad as he sighed, pulling his hand away.  “I’m sorry,” he apologized again.  “We will meet again.  I promise.”  He snapped his fingers and I instantly fell asleep.

When I woke up, I was in my bed, draped in my blanket.  At first I was so drowsy I couldn’t remember a thing, but then my eyes popped open as I remembered my father, that he had visited.  “Dad!”  I jumped out of bed and raced down the stairs, sliding into the kitchen and I looked around feverishly for my father.  

I ignored my fear of my mother as I went into the living room.  “Mom, where’s dad?” I asked excitedly and she frowned, looking up from the book she had been reading on the couch.

“Luke, didn’t we already discuss this?  We’re not to talk about your father.”

“But he was here!”

“No he wasn’t.”  My mother pursed her lips.  “Are you feeling all right?”

I tore out of the living room and out the door.  I threw it open, racing onto the walkway as I looked around for my dad.  I dropped to my knees, my heart pounding.  He was gone.  I’d lost my father again.  


End file.
